The End of Their World
by JungleCat
Summary: Their world is finished, the sky had well and truely fallen. Not even hero's live forever.
1. Death March

I wrote 'The Spell' and the response was overwhelming (thank you so much everyone!), which is always great for a writers' ego. But the problem with finishing a really great story, it is leaves you in a bit of a rut. If I write something now, and the response isn't as good… well its very discouraging let me tell you! As much as you hated that it was over, I hated finishing it.  
  
So, to get myself past the painful 'after the greatest work of your life' story, this piece of dribble has come to be. I expect nothing from it other than for it to NOT be as popular as 'The Spell'. I think it can live up to that right?  
  
So, without further ado, another one of my single chapter (hopefully not to become an epic, but I will if you ask because I love you) story.  
  
1 JungleCat  
  
  
  
It had been hard. Spike would be the first to admit that, to himself and anyone else if they'd had the decency to ask him about it. In fact, in the long years he'd existed, he couldn't remember anything else that had ever been harder. Nothing in the world had ever hurt more than gathering her body up in his arms and carrying her out of there.  
  
The watcher had wanted to do it, argued at him when he'd reached for her. In the end it was the Witch that had intervened, she'd seen that look before. She'd seen it in the mirror the day Oz left her, and the day she'd taken Tara home from the hospital, her brain little more than useless gray sludge. Spike was lost somewhere inside himself, and she had doubted very much if the chip would have been able to stop him from killing anyone who got between him and Buffy's body.  
  
A line of mourners fell in behind the Vampire as he led the death march through the Sunny Dale night towards the Watchers. Tears streamed openly down his face, and even all his macho conditioning wasn't enough to give him the strength to fight them off, or even wipe them away.  
  
Beside him, one hand gripping firmly onto the edge of his leather duster, the Nibblet. Dawn, more tiny and frail than ever before held onto that coat for dear life. She was sure, somewhere in her mind, that without its smooth texture under her fingers she'd fall off the world. Fall to the ground and follow Buffy into death. Something. There was no thought for her, just the vague notion that she had to keep that bunch of leather in her fist and put one foot infront of the other.  
  
Behind them, the Watcher, he wasn't crying anymore, but his eyes were empty. He always knew this day would come; most watchers outlived their Slayers. But we had wanted to be different, he'd wanted her to bury him, he'd imagined in his darker moments what she might say to the few gathered when he was finally buried here in Sunny Dale.  
  
The witches were next, clinging to each other for comfort and the strength to keep walking. To see this sad march to it's end. Willow was crying, her eyes large and red, the slight mascara that she'd put on so many hours ago ran down her cheeks and only served to make her look more wretched and broken. Her best friend was dead. Gone. She'd never see her again; she'd always be without her. It hardly seemed real.  
  
At the end of the procession, Xander carried his semi conscious girlfriend in his arms. He envied her she wasn't awake. She didn't have to make the walk, didn't have to use this silence to think about all the things that Buffy had done before that she wouldn't do anymore. Anya didn't have to watch the Vampires back as he carried the love of his existence; she didn't have to accept finally that there was nothing in the world that could hurt Spike now. He was truly dead inside.  
  
There were no words at the watchers… the lifeless body was lay on the couch and Spike sat wearily in a chair opposite, seemingly intent to keep an all night vigil on the vague hope that lived in him, that she would simply wake up. Still no words as Dawn clambered into his lap to rest her chin on his shoulder and grip him tightly, an anchor, something to hold her still while everything she'd ever known spun so completely out of control.  
  
Without thinking Spikes' arms were around her and he was rocking back and forward. His tears had dried on his face but there was no thought behind his ice-blue eyes. He held Dawn simply because she was there and on no level did he realize it was for her comfort as much as his. It would be many hours before Spike would remember his promise…  
  
Giles moved back into his living room, his absence un-noticed. He carried blankets and pillows, which were dumped in a large pile in the middle of the room. One by one the Scoobies picked out a blanket and a place to curl up. No one would be alone tonight; the thought alone was to frightening to comprehend. They'd be alone forever now, without Buffy they'd always be alone. So tonight they'd all huddle together, and pretend that they alone were enough to keep them from going mad with the loss.  
  
6:00 am, the sun had begun to stain the horizon, and still Spike hadn't slept. He'd barely even blinked. His eyes had kept their all night watch of the Slayers face. She looked peaceful, or so he thought to himself.  
  
Dawn was still in his lap, she hadn't moved all night except to whimper and cry. Somewhere between then and now, Spike found that he was numb. He couldn't think properly and he couldn't seem to grasp the fact that she wasn't waking up.  
  
If he just made a loud enough noise?  
  
Maybe if he said something rude, she always responded to that…  
  
What if he told her that her ass was fat, that'd get her moving.  
  
Somewhere inside him, he knew that it wouldn't work, that's probably what kept him from doing it. As long as he didn't try, as long as it wasn't proved that it didn't work, he could TELL himself that it would. He wouldn't have been able to take the disappointment and pain when it didn't. So he didn't move and he didn't speak.  
  
"Spike…?" came the small voice from his lap.  
  
Spike looked down at two round eyes looking up at him pleadingly and he was struck by his last words to the Slayer, he promised.  
  
"You'll look after Dawn?"  
  
"Till the end of the world, even if that happens to be tonight."  
  
"Yes pet?" why was his voice so raspy?  
  
"I," Dawn stopped; she didn't know how to say anything anymore. She wanted him to tell her he wouldn't leave; she wanted him to tell her everything would be fine. She wanted him to say SOMETHING! "Spike," she started to cry again and the conversation ended.  
  
Spike didn't have words either, there wasn't a verbal language in the universe that could express what he felt, what he knew she felt, so he wasn't surprised she couldn't say it. He rocked her back and forward and held her to his chest, give and take. Isn't that what they say love is? With everything that wasn't words, they told each other how broken they were. How desolate they felt and how utterly frightened it made them.  
  
The others began to wake and each had a few precious moments where everything was fine. How many times had they all awoken at Giles' after pulling an all nighter? Hundreds, and the fact that this morning was different took a moment to sink in.  
  
It could be watched, like a ripple through water, the realization moving through the room. The tears came again, not a dry eye to be seen as with vengeful and powerful clarity, the pain hit for a second time as if it were the first.  
  
Buffy was dead.  
  
"Till the end of the world…"  
  
It was the end of the world. The end of everything they knew. They all had their anchors, the thing they gripped with all their power to keep from disappearing into a darkness of their own.  
  
Giles looked at the Scoobies, his children. He'd long since given up on trying to think of them otherwise. They'd be his forever, he had to stay, had to be strong for them.  
  
Willow held Tara in a grip that almost crushed her; nothing else in the world would have been strong enough to keep her from obliterating herself from grief. So she clung, filled herself with Tara's scent and heartbeat and forced herself to think of nothing else.  
  
The second witch threw herself into being brave. She could do it for Willow, she would stay together. All her thought was bent on not thinking, on not being sucked into despair. She had to stay strong, the others were so broken and she had to be strong for them.  
  
Xander and Anya remained on the floor wrapped around one another with their eyes closed. They locked themselves in their own little world of blankets and pillows and two warm bodies. It wasn't real yet. They'd face it soon, but not now. Now they would curl up against one another and concentrate on not dying. Not fading away to nothing.  
  
On the chair in the corner, Dawn raised her eyes and Spike looked down into her eyes. They were both completely alone now. They had lost the only thing that was left; their whole world was gone. Sitting together in that chair, each saw the only one they thought could make it all right again.  
  
  
  
Told you it was going to be dribble! I'm just trying to get back into the swing of things again so I went completely away from the other storyline and didn't something nice and depressing! 


	2. The Burial

The burial was a difficult affair, not as hard as the death march had been, but still, putting her body in the earth, saying goodbye… it was hard. There were tears again of course, but not from Dawn or Spike. The burial took place on a balmy night in Sunny Dale in an out of the way place. No one could know of the Slayers death of course, the hell mouth would be over run, but she had to be buried… they owed her that at least.  
  
The only remaining Summers woman stood with her small hand firmly encased in the larger one of her self appointed protector. The vampire watched the proceeding with a kind of hollow distance and refused to look directly at any of the Scoobies or the grave it's self, although in the months to come he would visit it at least once every night.  
  
Putting dirt over her seemed like a desecration to him. Like they were trying to hide her, bury her away where they would never have to look at her again, never have to deal with her… She was 6 feet under and now they could work on forgetting, work on letting her go. But he didn't want to forget, he didn't want to let her go and he certainly didn't want to bury her! You bury things you want to forget.  
  
Gentle but insistent tugging at his arm brought Spike back to them. Dawn was pulling on his hand and looking up at him expectantly.  
  
"What it is Nibblet?"  
  
She looked at him with understanding; she didn't want to pay attention either…  
  
"They asked you if you wanna say anything…"  
  
'Oh," Spike looked at the expectant faces and cleared his long dead throat, stepped forward and did what any man who has ever loved a woman that died does. He wondered where the hell to start.  
  
What could he possibly say that would make any difference, standing here talking about how great she was, wasn't going to bring her back!  
  
"I don't know what to say about Buffy…" he took a deep breath and let it out explosively, "Which shouldn't surprise anyone, because I never knew what to say TO her either."  
  
There were some knowing smiles and even a tiny snort of laughter from Dawn. Some of the things he'd said had been really dumb!  
  
"I stood in her living room less than a week ago and told her that I knew she'd never love me," he coughed a little then to keep the tears away, "I thought I'd at least have some time to prove myself wrong. The one thing, the only thing that mattered to her that last night, was that he family would be OK even if she weren't. That you lot would be OK, if something happened to her." He looked at Dawn then and she looked back at him with tears in her eyes.  
  
"I made her a promise, on the steps in her house… she asked me and I swore… I said I'd look after Dawn, till the end of the world. As it turns out, world didn't end… Dawn and I are still here, and I wont go back on my word." He looked at them all and saw as each one realized what he was saying.  
  
"None of you believe it, or maybe you don't want to, but I love her, and I love the Bit, and I'm not going anywhere. She didn't want me to leave if she died, she wanted me to make sure Dawn went to school and came home and she wanted…" he choked up then and Dawn was there with her arms tightly around his waist and her face pushed into his stomach. They were both crying.  
  
"I don't want you all to send me away. Don't want you to make it so I can't see the bit, can't do what I promised. If it means bottling blood, if it means patrolling and making myself another bloody poof I'll do it. You can't…" his clouded eyes looked at the top of Dawns head, she held onto him like death himself was after her and Spike the only thing that could stop it.  
  
"Don't take her away from me," he pleaded quietly after a while, and no one knew quite what to say.  
  
Willow was the first to move, her thin arms moving lightly around Dawns shoulders and then around Spike's back. She rested her delicate chin in his shoulder and closed her eyes as one by one, the Scoobies moved in around her.  
  
It was never talked about again, never mentioned and certainly never made reference too, but the group hug lasted a long time before Dawn made a comment about suffocating. The tangle of arms and grief stricken faces had moved apart, until Dawn and Spike were alone again, her arms still firmly around his waist.  
  
"Today has been long and trying for everyone, I think we should all go home and get some rest." Said Giles softly but firmly.  
  
Spike watched as Xander and Anya pulled away from the group to walk in the direction of the home they shared. Willow and Tara looked at him with their large and understanding eyes before doing the same. Giles stood and looked at them for along time. He wanted to take Dawn with him, latch on like grim death to the last remaining remnant of his Slayer… of Buffy. Dawn showed no sign of letting go and Spike showed no sign of moving, they were going to make this difficult.  
  
"Dawn, its time to go home. You can collect some things, for the time being at least you'll stay with me." He said in his cultured accent.  
  
For some reason the only remaining Summers found his tone infuriating, he was calm and collected and he didn't sniffle once! She was outraged and disgusted and clung all the tighter to her dark protector who's arms had snaked around her shoulders possessively.  
  
"You're not takin' her anywhere Watcher. I'll take her back to the house and stay with her there, 'less there is someplace else she wants to go?" he looked down at her tearstained face, addressing that last part to her.  
  
"Can," she thought about her house, the one she shared with her mum and Buffy, and how no matter how much time she spent there, they'd never be there again… "Can we go back to the crypt please? I don't wanna be at the house."  
  
"Anything you want Bit, anything you want." He slipped his hand down and took hers in it gently before using his other hand to tilt her chin and force her to look at him, "Gonna be alright bit, I'm not goin' anywhere without you."  
  
She smiled at that, a vague idea of running away flashing through her mind. Disappearing into the night with the one person who couldn't die and leave her, the only one who'd never go anywhere. She knew it like she knew the sun was going to rise that no matter where she was, when she woke up Spike would be within reach. Always.  
  
"Dawn you're not thinking straight, you can't stay at the crypt. There is nowhere for you to sleep there, no food, no bathroom. Spike isn't alive he's not equipped to look after you. It would be best for everyone if you came with me."  
  
"She's not going with you Rupert," Spikes voice was menacing, dangerous.  
  
Giles wasn't entirely sure how much pain the vampire could inflict with the chip, but he was aware that Spike was stronger and faster than he was.  
  
"Spike surely you understand why this can't work. She needs to be with the living…"  
  
"She needs to be with someone who loves her! Last I checked being thrown of a tower is a pretty sure sign of love, the second I see you do something to prove to me you'll die for her, then I'll stand back and let the humans handle it! Until then, unless Lil'bit tells me otherwise, she's not gettin' out of my sight." He was angry, the broken pleading man was gone and he was a vampire again.  
  
Clan, family, blood. Those were the things that mattered to a vampire, ostracized from his kind, lost to his clan and forgotten by his family, Spike clung to a new family of his own making. He got to choose who was in it, and just because they weren't vampires, didn't mean he wasn't going to protect them. The Summers girls had always been his, from Joyce with her hot chocolate and tender heart, Buffy with her wit and incredible strength, to Dawn, the smallest summers with the heart of her mother and the soul of her sister.  
  
"You can't be serious…"  
  
"They were my girls Watcher." He said firmly, "When, and not before, I see that you bunch of mortal wankers can protect her, then I'll let her go." He looked down at Dawns upturned face and touched the tip of her nose with one index finger, "She's the last Summers, not the littlest one now, and she's gonna live to be 100 and make lots of little Summers of her own."  
  
Dawn started crying again and buried her face in his stomach, her arms constricting tightly around his waist, she didn't want them fighting over her but she didn't want to go with Giles. Giles was old and he was SO English and he didn't have a clue what it was like to be a teenage girl. Spike had never really left puberty, or so it seemed to her, he still had all that bubbling energy inside him that she suffered from. He still felt things that he couldn't control and he still had moments of utter childishness. She liked all that about him.  
  
"I wanna stay with Spike. But," she swallowed and tried to be strong about it, "We should go back to the house… I think I'd miss my bed."  
  
Spike nodded and took her hand again.  
  
"Want some food first Nibblet?"  
  
"Sure… Umm… Muffin?" she asked hopefully.  
  
"Muffin huh? For Dinner? You're mum would stake me, but we'll get away with it just this once." Without a backward glance at Giles they began walking towards the nearest Starbucks, "Better pray to you're mum bit and explain this was your idea."  
  
"I don't think it works like that Spike."  
  
"Sure it does love, you think Joyce would ever go so far away that she couldn't hear you? Couldn't keep her eye on you every second? You know her better than that."  
  
"What about Buffy?"  
  
Spikes eyes clouded over and her squeezed her hand gently as they walked.  
  
"I wouldn't be at all surprised pet, if the Slayer is in fact sitting on your shoulder tellin' you how bad an influence I am." He smiled self mockingly. "Should probably at least pretend to listen to her."  
  
Dawn managed a small giggle and looked at her shoulder thoughtfully. She shook her head and moved a little closer to her Vampire protector.  
  
"I don't think She'd say that at all." 


	3. Keep the World Turning

It had been Willow's idea to use the Buffybot. She could go out on patrol and generally potter around so no one would know that the real Buffy wasn't there. But people did know. Dawn knew everyday.  
  
The last remaining Summers morning routine was simple and designed only to get her from her room, to Spike's side with a minimum of time and effort.  
  
Her eyes would open and for a few precious seconds, everything was fine. But then her sister was dead and Tara and Willow were living in her mum's room. Those two facts never failed to shatter her perfect waking moment. But then came other facts, Spike was in the basement, he hardly ever spent a night in the crypt anymore. He would make her breakfast and help her pick out what she wanted to wear to school. He'd usher Willow out of the room if she got a little too pushy or a little too demanding. Spike was there, so everything would be OK.  
  
Two bare little feet would hit the floor and made their way to the upstairs bathroom where a sleepy face was washed and hair was pushed back into some semblance of order. Then it was off down the stairs to the kitchen.  
  
He was always awake, always in the kitchen making her breakfast when she got up; she wondered how he knew when she'd be coming down.  
  
"Morning Nibblet," he said in his gruff English accent.  
  
It didn't faze her anymore; he was always gruff in the morning, always just a little surly at being awake during the dreaded daylight hours, but he never complained to her.  
  
"Morning, waffles?" at least that brought a small smile to her face.  
  
"Yeah, the good witches of the west went shopping so there's maple syrup now." He handed her the goo-covered waffles and she sat at the bench to eat.  
  
As always, without a word, Spike was behind her with a hairbrush. He had such a gentle touch, not even Dawn would have picked it, but he could get out every tangle without a single pull, she never had to wince once. Dawn munched on her breakfast; Spike busied himself with her hair and across town, the Scoobies held a meeting to discus what was to be done about it.  
  
"I don't like it." Xander had said that self same sentence a dozen times a day since Buffy's death.  
  
Truth was he couldn't really find much wrong with it other than he'd always hated Spike and he had, until recently, thought he always would. He spent a lot of time with the vampire at night, they patrolled together, Spike had even saved his life a time or two.  
  
"I don't see that there is much we can do that wont involve violence and trauma to Dawn." Giles was, once again, cleaning his glasses, "Spike hasn't done any harm to her, and as far as I can see they have a soothing influence on each other. I believe it might be in everyone's best interests to leave well enough alone."  
  
Willow was nodding quietly, she'd grown used to having Spike in the house with them, and on the rare occasions he went back to the crypt not only was Dawn harder to manage, but she didn't feel as safe. She knew without a doubt that she could take just about any demon in sunny dale, she was a powerful witch, but it was comforting to have him there.  
  
As always, Tara tried to stay out of these conversations that involved close relationships she was only beginning to understand. She knew Spike was good for Dawn, in fact before she'd died, Tara thought Spike would have been good for Buffy too.  
  
"I like having Spike in the house, he helps with everything and Dawn listens to him." Willow said finally.  
  
"My point! My point exactly! She's spending all her time with him and he's got her ear now! It's SPIKE for crying out loud! He could be telling her to do anything and in her state she might just listen to him!" Xander didn't even really believe his own arguments anymore, Dawn's grades were steadily rising and it wasn't under HIS tutelage.  
  
"You know that isn't true Xander. He can get her to go to bed on time and he helps her with her homework and he cooks her breakfast!" Willow was on her feet and looking at her best friend in annoyance, "He does everything for her and I don't think it's our place to say what two people who are grieving should do with themselves! I don't know if anyone else noticed but this crushed Spike and Dawn isn't far behind… You can stand here and pass judgment all you want, but if being together helps them get through this then I think we should just let them!"  
  
"Quite right… as much as I hate to admit it, Spike has been indispensable in patrolling and in helping to care for Dawn… and in the wake of the funeral I for one," he coughed a little and put his glasses back on, "I for one am willing to admit that I have been wrong." The room was silent and no one knew where to look. "He loved her, just as we did, and he is grieving just as we are."  
  
There was no more talk about Spike and Dawn, no more idea of separating them, not after that night…  
  
"Dawnie I'm home!" called Willow as she dropped her bag next to the door.  
  
"She's not home yet." The closeness of the voice startled her and Spikes slightly smirking face made her slightly annoyed.  
  
"Why not?" she demanded.  
  
"Had a meeting with a councilor after school. Was organized by her history teacher, I told her it'd be best if she went, just to see what they had to say mind. Don't put much stock in that stuff myself."  
  
Willow sighed and moved into the kitchen, shuffling things around in an effort not to look at Spike. She'd snapped at him, and he hadn't done anything wrong really. She was tired and it had been yet another long day.  
  
"I'm sorry I snapped at you," she said at last, "It's been a long week… for everyone."  
  
Their eyes met and Spike was surprised to see a measure of understanding, even friendship behind the little witches green orbs. In impulse, Willow reached out and took his hand gripping it tightly in her own.  
  
"We're going to be OK, all of us." She said.  
  
It never ceased to amaze the vampire, this slight little creature's capacity for optimism. His existence was based largely on it, or had been up until recently. He lived to see things get better. Now he didn't see a way that they could, there was no way to make anything all right again now.  
  
"Maybe, or maybe the world will slowly rot until one day it just crumbles to dust because she isn't on it anymore."  
  
His tone startled and frightened her. This wasn't Spike! Where was his eternal cocky self-assurance? His annoying but dependable strength? It wasn't hiding behind his eyes anymore, nor was it evident in the way his hand neither pulled back, nor gripped her own. For some reason it was important to reassure him.  
  
"It is going to be alright. We're all still here, we'll make sure the world turns." She smiled then, in that forced happiness that comes from the desperate need not only to convince someone else, but herself as well.  
  
At last Spike pulled his hand back only to touch the side of her face with it before he turned and walked back down into the basement. She faintly heard his mumbled response.  
  
"What makes you think we can?"  
  
Dawn walked into a cool house that afternoon. The sun was making its way towards the horizon and it would very soon be dark. She ignored Willow's call from upstairs and headed for the basement, hoping Spike hadn't picked today for one of his forays back to the crypt. She'd been stupid this day, and no one would understand but him…  
  
"Spike?" she called softly down the stairs.  
  
A grunt was her only response until, in the dim light, she saw Spike sit up on the cot and stretch the kinks out of his back. He looked at her slowly and frowned.  
  
"What's wrong 'Bit?" He was on his feet and by her side in a moment.  
  
"Its just… I've… that is…" she looked up at him, hoping somehow to gauge how angry he was going to be.  
  
"C'mon Nibblet, spit it out." He sat on the step and she sank down next to him.  
  
"I was in a fight at school today…" she said softly.  
  
Spike didn't say anything, and that scared her more than screaming would have. Spike was never quiet! She looked at him with large eyes imploring his understanding; he was looking down at her thoughtfully.  
  
"Why…?" he asked at last.  
  
"It was so stupid, this guy was going on and on about some stupid problem he had with his girlfriend hardly ever being around. I said he probably just needed to give her some space or something, regular girls like space right? And he told me to shut up because I was stupid and at least his sister was real. He thinks I made her up because no one has ever seen her…" her voice choked up then and Spikes arms were around her.  
  
In the whirling mind of a Vampire, holding his only purpose for living and listening to the story of her defending his love, Spike found it very hard not to praise her. Found it almost impossible not to ask her to show him what move she used, was it one he'd shown her or something the Slayer had imparted? Instead he tried very hard to think of what Buffy would want… no Buffy would probably yell, he couldn't do that. If he went all straight laced on her, whom would she have to turn to? No, he'd have to handle this his way.  
  
"'Bit…" he sighed and tried a different tack, "What did you're teachers say?"  
  
"They want to talk to my legal guardian… Please don't send Willow! Please will you go with me instead! It's at nighttime! Please don't make me go with Willow!" Dawn's hands closed tightly around Spikes upper arms and she looked into his eyes begging him not to make her do it alone.  
  
"Alright sweet, we'll do this together…" he gently pulled her into his lap and hugged her tightly. "Although love, you know you're going to have to learn not to just go about hittin' people." He thought long and hard about his next line and how cruel it might seem, but decided it was the best way, "That's not what Buffy would have wanted…"  
  
The last remaining Summers let out a little hiccupping sob and buried her face into her Vampire protector's naked chest. Why was everything so hard? Spike rocked her gently; she'd never hit anyone again, at least not for a while. He was somewhat ashamed of himself, but the scoobies used that line on him every now and then, and he recognized that it DID in fact curb his less flattering habits.  
  
Willow stood at the top of the stairs, she'd seen and heard most of it. Her doubts about Spike washed away with Dawns trusting tears and she backed out of the stairwell and started making some dinner. Spike would handle Dawn just fine…  
  
Yes… Dawn and Spike would be fine until she could fix things. 


End file.
